


The Start of November (and Something New)

by sopenation



Series: Semishira Week 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Emotionally Constipated Shirabu Kenjriou, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fortune Telling, M/M, Oblivious Semi Eita, School Festivals, Shirabu is shit at feelings, Shirabu the no.1 Ushi simp, Ushijima in a dress, only a little, this is cheesy as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopenation/pseuds/sopenation
Summary: Semi somehow gets roped into spending the day with Shirabu at Shiratorizawa’s school festival.Cue Ushijima in a dress, Shirabu not knowing what to do with his feelings and a shady fortune teller that keeps making weirdly accurate assumptions about Shirabu’s crush, and Semi’s not trying to get his hopes up but he’s beginning to think that most of the descriptions sound like… him?
Relationships: Goshiki Tsutomu/Kawanishi Taichi, Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: Semishira Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017882
Comments: 26
Kudos: 220
Collections: Semishira Week 2020





	The Start of November (and Something New)

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: School festivals in Japan are usually held on November 3.
> 
> I missed Semishira and am so excited to participate in Semishira week uwu, look out for more fics on Day 6 and 7! I spent super long on this one and am really proud of the concept, i hope you guys enjoy too!!

It’s the long-awaited day of Shiratorizawa Academy’s annual cultural festival. Banners promoting booths hang from the ceiling as students chat excitedly among themselves in the hallways, waving their coupons around. 

Autumn leaves blanket the school grounds, creating a tapestry of vivid reds and yellows, and the crisp air stings his face, if only a little, as he stares down at one Shirabu Kenjirou in his arms.

Semi blinks owlishly, taking in the flush creeping up his kouhai’s mortified face. Shirabu had come barrelling out of nowhere, stumbling a little and would have fallen if not for Semi’s quick reflexes, instinctively pulling him close. With their faces barely inches apart, Semi was free to take in the gold flecks shining in Shirabu’s wide eyes, and the unmistakably erratic heartbeat thumping against his chest.

Shirabu’s mouth falls open before he hastily pushes Semi away, his cheeks flaming. _It’s cute_ , Semi thinks as he watches Shirabu fiddling with his fingers, the ‘blushing schoolgirl’ demeanour that he has going on right now. He much prefers this over salty, petty Shirabu but sadly, good things never last long.

“ _Taichi you dumb fuck_ —” Shirabu whips his head around to glare daggers at his best friend. “Why the _fuck_ did you push me?!”

Kawanishi steps forward completely unfazed, bowing slightly in front of Semi. “I leave him in your hands now, Semi-san. Good luck.” He says solemnly. 

“Don’t talk about me like you’re a _father giving their daughter away_ —"

“Uh—what?” Semi furrows his brows, something in the redhead’s eyes setting off the alarm bells in his head. 

“I have to go help out at my class’s booth.” 

“…O-kay? What does this have to do with leaving Shirabu with me?”

“Someone needs to make sure he doesn’t eat himself into an early death.” Kawanishi deadpans.

Shirabu lets out a scandalised gasp. “I’m _not_ going to do that.”

“You literally have no self control.” Kawanishi crosses his arms, looking more and more like a mother scolding their child. “You’ll thank me later.”

He moves to walk away, but not before looking Semi dead in the eye and placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I can trust you, right?”

“…Yeah?”

Kawanishi nods grimly, but the small twitch of his lips betrays his amusement. “Hold his hand or something. He’s so small, he might get lost.”

_“I will end you.”_

Kawanishi just shrugs, turning to leave without another word. 

As he’s walking away, Shirabu hisses to him. “You better _not_ use this as an excuse to go make out with Goshiki.”

The middle blocker responds with a suggestive grin and a peace sign before disappearing completely into the crowd. 

“Asshole.” Shirabu grumbles under his breath, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. 

Semi sighs. “I need to have a word with Tendou. He’s beginning to rub off on Taichi.”

“If you mean he’s becoming more of an asshole than usual, then yes.” 

Semi chuckles softly, unaware of how Shirabu’s face lights up at that. He smiles at the second year, gesturing to the stalls around them. “Come on, let’s go check them out.”

They weave in and out of the crowds, glancing at stalls that catch their eyes. They stop to grab taiyaki, arguing back and forth about who gets to pay. Semi wins in the end, and Shirabu grumpily declares between mouthfuls of cake that he’s paying the next time. 

Semi is halfway through his taiyaki when he hears someone calling his name.

“Oi, Eita!”

Semi turns around, ready to greet whoever it is—

—and nearly spits his food out. 

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, but nothing comes out. His brain stutters to an abrupt halt, as he tries to process the sight of his two closest friends, wearing. _maid. dresses._

Yamagata cocks his hip, smiling smugly. “Like what you see?” He’s dressed in a standard maid outfit, complete with ribbons in his hair and sparkly nail polish. 

Ushijima stands behind him, clad in the same frilly dress and looking dead inside. 

It’s not like they look _bad_. Yamagata, surprisingly, is really rocking the look. And Ushijima somehow manages to make the innocent outfit look hot, judging by the fawning looks he keeps receiving. 

That doesn’t make it any easier for him to digest. 

When Semi finally finds his voice, the only thing he manages to say is a weak “what the fuck”.

A crooked grin appears on Yamagata’s face. He twirls around, showing off his dress before posing dramatically. “We’re doing a maid café!”

Semi snaps his head up to gape at Ushijima. “ _You_ agreed to this?!”

“It was a unanimous decision.” Ushijima replied, his blank face giving nothing away. “In favour of class unity, we held a vote on who would wear the dresses, and I received the most votes.”

“I volunteered.” Yamagata chimes in, looking proud. 

A pregnant silence falls between them, save for the unmistakeable sound of a camera clicking. 

“…Shirabu, why are you taking pictures?”

“For research.”

Semi slaps his hand away. 

Yamagata snorts, leaning closer to them. “Don’t tell anyone this, but Wakatoshi ripped his dress getting into it. There’s duct tape all the way down his back.”

Ushijima nods. “It is very uncomfortable.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to find one in his size.” Semi whispers back in awe. 

Yamagata barks out a laugh, before snapping his fingers. “I have an idea,” Semi catches his eyes gleaming before he runs off into their classroom-turned-maid-café. “wait there!”

He returns from the classroom holding something behind his back, and, standing on his tiptoes, ever so gently places a pair of bunny ears on top of Ushijima’s head. 

Ushijima, in all his poker face and bunny ears glory, gives a thumbs up. 

Shirabu immediately reaches for his phone. Semi wordlessly pockets it from him. 

“Would you two like to come in?” Ushijima asks, absentmindedly fiddling with the bunny ears. Shirabu makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. 

“Yes plea—” “OKAY WE’RE LEAVING NOW.”

Semi promptly steers Shirabu away from the maid café, ignoring his protests. He pretends not to see Yamagata winking at him.

Once they’re far away enough, Shirabu turns around and Semi’s only able to catch the irritation in his eyes before he feels a sharp whack to his chest. 

_“Ow.”_

“What was that for?” Shirabu frowns. A fleeting image of an upset kitten crosses Semi’s mind but he quickly shakes himself out of it. 

“Am I supposed to just sit there while you thirst after Wakatoshi in that dress? No thanks.” He scoffs.

So maybe it comes out sounding like he’s slightly jealous, but he’s not, okay? At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Shirabu’s eyes widen. “Wh— What?” His face turns a fierce shade of red, which would have been cute if he hadn’t hit Semi even harder. 

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, stop— _stop hitting me already_.” 

He does stop _(eventually)_ but if anything his blush is even more prominent than ever. “W-Why would you think,” Shirabu’s eyes dart around nervously. “that I— Ushijima-san, he’s not, I don’t…” 

Shirabu stumbles over his words, but Semi understands what he’s trying to say nonetheless.

“You’re saying…” Semi bites his lip, voice hopeful. “you _don’t_ like Wakatoshi?”

Shirabu nods furiously and Semi releases a breath he doesn’t realise he’d been holding. 

“I don’t… like Ushijima-san.” Shirabu says with finality, looking Semi straight in the eye. He sucks in a shaky breath, voice a quiet whisper. 

“I—I like someone else.”

His words hit Semi like a truck, knocking the wind out of him and crushing his heart into tatters. 

“Oh…” Semi exhales shakily. “So my bratty kouhai does have someone they like. Have you told them yet?” He’s somewhat proud of how steady his voice sounds, when really he wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. 

_Shirabu likes someone else. Shirabu likes someone else. Shirabu—_

Shirabu tears his gaze away, shaking his head, ‘No… I don’t think they like me back. I-I’m not good enough.” His voice is small, and Semi’s heart clenches at the dejection in his tone. 

“Listen to me, Shirabu. You’re an amazing person, and anyone would be lucky to have you.” Shirabu looks up in surprise as Semi continues with a soft smile. “And if they don’t appreciate you, it’s their loss. I can always kick their ass if you want me to.” 

A genuine laugh bubbles out of Shirabu’s throat, and Semi is suddenly left feeling starstruck, overwhelmed by waves of fondness for his kouhai.

But, like he said earlier, good things never did last long. 

“What’s this I hear about ass?”

Semi’s groan quickly dissolves into a yelp as his hands fly to cover his butt, turning around to glare at the offender. 

“DID YOU JUST GRAB MY ASS— _wait, what the hell_.”

Semi’s jaw drops. Shirabu unintentionally takes a step closer to Semi, practically clinging to his arm as he eyes the redhead warily. 

“Why the weird looks?” Tendou chirps. “Is there something on my face?”

“Satori, you are _literally_ covered in blood.”

And he was. Dressing in a traditional white hakama wasn’t weird per say, but the dark streaks of red splattered all over it was enough to give any unsuspecting person a heart attack. Coupled with his already monster-like tendencies and the blood dripping down his face, Tendou made for a _very_ convincing demon. 

Tendou cackles. “Oh this?” He gestures to his get-up, a maniacal grin painting his face. “Don’t look so traumatised, Kenjirou. It’s fake blood.”

“ _Why_.” Shirabu sounds mildly distressed, looking Tendou up and down with barely concealed horror. 

“Are you scared, Kenjirou?” Tendou teases, reaching forward to boop the setter’s nose. “Is that why you’re holding onto Eita-kun so tightly?”

“Fuck off.” He snaps, ducking behind Semi but not before Tendou catches sight of his red cheeks and begins howling with laughter. 

“Satori, _people are staring_.” Semi hissed. “And you still haven’t explained why you’re covered in blood.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tendou waves the sleeves of his bloody hakama around. “My class is doing a haunted house!”

“It’s perfect for you.” Shirabu says dryly. 

Tendou puffs his blood-stained chest out proudly. “I know, right?”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Kenjirou.” Tendou clutches his chest, feigning sorrow.

“Then die.”

“Shirabu, be nice.”

“Go die too, Semi-san.”

Tendou clears his throat loudly.

“As much as I enjoy hearing your lovers quarrel, how about we move on to more… pressing matters?” Tendou claps his hands in an overly dramatic fashion, dark red eyes twinkling. “Did you guys see Wakatoshi yet?”

“Unfortunately.” Semi mumbles. 

A smirk blooms on Tendou’s face. Semi desperately wants to slap it off and maybe contribute some real blood to his costume. “Speaking of ass, Wakatoshi’s looked amazing in that dress, don’t you think so? And don’t get me started on _those biceps_ —”

“Nope, not dealing with this.” Shirabu mutters, already dragging Semi away. 

“I may not be religious, but seeing Wakatoshi-kun in that dress answered all my prayers—” 

“ _Goodbye_ , Tendou-san.”

Semi allows Shirabu to drag him out into the schoolyard, and no it is _not_ because he likes holding his hand, before stopping him in his tracks.

“Where are we going exactly?”

Shirabu huffs, dropping his hand. “Anywhere to get away from Tendou-san. We shouldn’t run into anyone annoying out here—“

“Semi-san, Shirabu-san! Over here!”

Semi watches in amusement as Shirabu’s face contorts into varying degrees of disgust.

“Speak of the devil.” 

In the distance, he makes out Goshiki behind the chocolate banana stall. He’s dressed in an apron and practically vibrating with excitement, waving to them enthusiastically. 

Shirabu looks like he wants to sink into the ground. 

Semi snorts at his pained expression. “It’s not the end of the world, you know? And Tsutomu is excited to see you, the least you can do is go over there.”

The second year pouts childishly. 

He nudges his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll pay for your banana.”

“Deal.”

It’s almost comical how quickly Shirabu accepts when food is brought into the picture, and he kind of wants to point that out but (smartly) decides that it’s best if he just keeps his mouth shut. 

He looks towards the throng of students milling around, and, against his better judgement, tentatively reaches for Shirabu’s hand, lacing their fingers together. 

Shirabu jumps and turns to stare at him, but makes no move to pull away. 

“Wha— What are you doing?” 

“You’re so small. I don’t want to lose you” 

The smack Shirabu gives him this time _really_ hurts, but Semi swears it’s worth it once he sees the impressive shade of red the younger turns. 

And if Semi’s heart sings when Shirabu gives his hand a light squeeze, well, he keeps his mouth shut. 

They make their way towards Goshiki’s stall; Semi makes a show of turning back periodically to make sure he’s not lost while Shirabu rolls his eyes, which do nothing to mask the fondness in them.

They’re still holding hands when Goshiki runs out from behind the stall to greet them, much to his classmates’ chagrin.

“Oi, Goshiki! Stop running off, you’re still on duty!” One of his classmates calls out. 

Goshiki flinches and turns back to raise his hand in a salute, retreating to his stall hastily. 

“Welcome, senpai!” He greets cheerily, now behind the counter. 

A warm smile stretches across Semi’s face. He always did have a soft spot for Goshiki. 

“Hey, Tsutomu. How’s business?”

Goshiki beams, holding his head high. “It’s going really well! A lot of people complimented my food!”

“It’s just chocolate and bananas. How hard can it be?” Shirabu mutters under his breath.

Semi clears his throat, giving his hand a hard squeeze. “Have you decided what you wanted yet, Shirabu?”

“I can make you some of our specialties!” Goshiki cuts in. “I practiced really, really hard to perfect them.” He insists in earnest, bright eyes sparkling. 

"That sounds good.” Semi agrees easily, letting go of Shirabu’s hand to pull his wallet out. He doesn’t notice the way Shirabu’s eyes continue to linger on his hand.

Goshiki accepts the money, but he’s not looking at Semi. Instead, his eyes strayed further behind him, lips pulled into a barely noticeable, but still there frown. 

Semi furrows his brows at the sudden change in his demeanour. “Something wrong, Tsutomu?”

Goshiki bites his lip, turning his eyes away to write down their orders. 

“Is… Taichi-san with you?” He asks, voice quietly laced with hope.

“He said he had to go help out at his class’s booth.” Shirabu answers, sounding (shockingly) sympathetic. 

Goshiki visibly deflates.

“He hasn’t come by to see you yet?” Semi questions softly, already knowing the answer when Goshiki’s shoulders slump even more.

“… I was hoping we could spend some time together before he went.” Goshiki admits miserably as he goes to grab the ingredients. 

Shirabu purses his lips. “That bastard can’t even make time to see his own boyfriend?”

“No, no!” Goshiki waves his hands frantically. “He’s just busy! I understand, and I don’t want to bother him by being too clingy…”

“If you’re upset about it—“

“I’m not!” 

Shirabu still looks unconvinced.

“I’m fine, really. I can’t hang onto him all the time, especially when he’s busy.”

“And besides,” Goshiki continues, a dopey smile making its way onto his face. “Taichi’s actually a _really good_ boyfriend to me.”

“Ew.”

“Taichi’s really considerate!” Goshiki replies, adamant in defending his boyfriend’s honour. “One time at practice, he gave me his towel when I forgot mine.”

There’s a small pause. 

“ _Shit_.” Shirabu whispers, turning to look at Semi. “The bar is set _really low_.”

Semi flicks his forehead. 

“He does a lot of other things for me too!” Goshiki squawks indignantly. 

“If I wanted to hear about your love life, I would just talk to Taichi. And coexisting with him is already enough of a punishment.”

Goshiki pouts, but he takes the hint and hurries to prepare their orders. 

What a good kid. 

“You didn’t have to be so mean, you know?” Semi nudges him when he’s sure Goshiki can’t hear them. “He just wanted to talk about his boyfriend.” 

Shirabu rolls his eyes. “Semi-san, I’m roommates with Taichi. He takes one look at Goshiki and suddenly he’s planning their wedding. _You_ try putting up with that.” 

Semi stares, unsure of how to process that information. “… I didn’t know Taichi was like that.” 

“It’s even worse when he’s thirsty. If I have to listen to _‘I want to have his babies’_ or _‘he could strangle me with those thighs and I’d thank him’_ one more goddamn time, Goshiki’s not going to have a boyfriend anymore.” 

“What about my boyfriend, senpai?” Goshiki asks innocently, bringing their bananas over. 

Shirabu smiles deviously. “Nothing you need to know about.”

“Please don’t kill Taichi.” 

“No promises.” 

Goshiki hands their orders over, looking mildly horrified. Semi can’t help but smile at seeing his banana decorated as a minion; coated in bright yellow chocolate and sprinkles with an Oreo acting as its eye. _It’s adorable_ , Semi thinks, making sure to voice it aloud to Goshiki. The first year scratches the back of his head, insisting _‘it was no big deal’_ but his red cheeks suggest otherwise. 

“If we run into Taichi, we’ll tell him to visit you.” Semi promises when they part ways. 

He bites into his banana, suppressing a moan at the heavenly flavours dancing around on his taste buds. “Shit, this is really good.” 

He looks over at Shirabu, who was scrutinising his own uneaten banana. Unlike Semi’s, his banana was dipped in pink chocolate and covered with colourful sprinkles. A pair of marshmallow ears sat atop it, mimicking a bunny’s. 

“Why aren’t you eating?”

Shirabu blinks, snapping out of his daze. He stares at the bunny ears a little longer, before saying slowly:

  
“It reminds me of Ushijima-san.” 

  
Semi chokes on his banana.

They end up getting Semi a drink of water. After finishing their bananas (Shirabu begrudgingly admitting it was good), they walk around looking at the various stalls. 

“Ugh, how many maid cafes can there be?” Shirabu wrinkles his nose when they come across another one. 

Semi shrugs. “Guess they’re in popular demand. By the way, you still haven’t told me what your class is doing this year.”

Silence.

Semi raises a brow. 

“….A maid café.”

He gets a sharp whack on his head when he promptly loses it and bursts into laughter, and frankly, he deserves it. 

“You’re telling me,” He wheezes, wiping away the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. “that I could have seen _you_ in a dress?”

Shirabu flushes a dark shade of red. “Shut up! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, asshole.”

Semi grabs his arms before he can hit him again, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Tell me this. Were you considered, at least?”

If possible, Shirabu’s blush deepens, his eyes flitting wildly between the hands circling his wrists and his face.

He nods slowly. 

Semi’s smile widens. He leans in to whisper in his ear, hot breath tickling Shirabu’s skin and sending shivers down his spine. 

_“If it means anything, I think you’d look even prettier in a dress.”_

Semi drops his hands, leaving Shirabu alone to fester in his own thoughts and the implication that _Semi thinks he’s pretty—_

He slaps his cheeks, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Cursing Semi in every way imaginable, he runs to catch up with him, bumping their shoulders a little too harshly.

“Let’s go play some games.” Semi suggests casually, as if he hasn’t just given him a miniature heart attack moments earlier. 

Bastard. 

He huffs. “Fine, where do you want to go?”

“I heard Reon’s in charge of his class’s booth. You wanna pay him a visit?”

“As long as it’s not Tendou-san.”

Reon greets the two of them with a warm smile when they walk over. He’s standing behind the ring toss booth, holding up a Teddy bear.

“Welcome, guys. Want to win a stuffed animal?”

“I don’t like stuffed animals.”

“I never said for you.” Reon replies cheerfully, punctuating his sentence with a not-so-subtle glance in Shirabu’s direction.

Semi’s face burns. “What makes you think I want to win one for him?”

“Why, Semi-san?” Shirabu steps forward, raising a brow in challenge. “Scared you’ll lose?”

Semi narrows his eyes. A surge of competitiveness and a need to prove himself courses through his veins. 

_“Which one do you fucking want.”_

Shirabu looks taken aback, but recovers soon after to point determinedly at a stuffed Eagle.

Semi picks the rings up, eyeing the damned stuffed animal and mentally calculating the trajectory needed to land them on the stupid bottles. After all, he wasn’t Shiratorizawa’s regular setter all those years for nothing. 

He licks his lips, shooting one final smirk in Shirabu’s direction before taking aim. 

(Semi later wins not only the Eagle, but also a jellyfish and a hedgehog after he catches Shirabu staring longingly at them.)

He pockets his (much lighter) wallet, feeling a tinge of regret at having wasted so much money. But if he was being completely honest, the look on Shirabu’s face when he gave him his prizes more than made up for it. 

They say their goodbyes to Reon, turning to leave but not before Semi catches him winking and mouthing _‘date him already’._

Reon Ohira is a fiend who shouldn’t be trusted, Semi decides. 

He quickly walks over to find Shirabu struggling to balance all three of his plushies, brows furrowed in intense concentration. He bites back a smile, reaching over to deftly pluck the hedgehog out of his hands.

"You're so small, it looks like you're about to get buried underneath those animals."

Shirabu bristles. "Shut up, I never asked you to get me this many."

“But I wanted to.” 

“Oh my god, _please_ shut up.” Shirabu mumbles weakly, burying his face into his plushies.

Semi laughs. “You are totally _not_ cute.” Lies.

“And you’re the worst senpai ever.” Also a lie. 

“You know what?” Semi squishes the hedgehog in his hands, a shit-eating grin on his face. “This hedgehog kind of reminds me of you.”

“Is the heat getting to you, Semi-san? Or has your retirement from volleyball rendered your one brain cell useless?”

“Just hear me out.” Semi nudges his shoulder lightly. 

Shirabu lifts his head up from his plushies, a silent confirmation for him to continue. 

“You’re prickly on the outside,” He smiles, squeezing the hedgehog for emphasis. “but inside, you’re just a big ol’ softie.”

Shirabu scoffs, but the tips of his ears are noticeably red. “If I’m the hedgehog, you’re the jellyfish.”

“Why?” Semi cocks his head. “Because I’m interesting?”

“No,” The second year answers, and Semi can tell he’s fighting back a smile. “because you don’t have a brain.”

Semi reaches over to ruffle his hair, pretending to be annoyed but the barely concealed smile on his face was a dead giveaway. 

“Brat.”

How someone can say that so fondly is entirely beyond Shirabu’s comprehension, and it shouldn’t, but that word alone is enough to snake its way into his heart, embedding itself as it relentlessly brings forth emotions he’s tried so hard to bury. The words tumble out of his mouth before his brain even catches up with what he’s saying. 

“You can have it.”

Semi blinks, confused. “What?”

Shirabu looks away. “…Your birthday is soon, right?”

He doesn’t have to look to feel Semi’s curious eyes on him.

“Well, you can have it. The hedgehog, I mean.” Shirabu busies himself by playing with his jellyfish’s tentacles, purposely avoiding his gaze.

Semi’s quiet for a moment. 

“Is this… my birthday present?”

“It could be your graduation present, too. You— You could look at it and think of me…” He trails off, feeling oddly shy. 

Shirabu’s heart skips a beat when a soft smile creeps its way onto Semi’s face, highlighting his beautiful features and the pure, unadulterated affection in his eyes. 

“It’s a little bit too early for that, but thank you, Shirabu.” Semi hugs his plushie a little tighter, warm eyes sparkling. “Now I’ll always be able to remember my prickly kouhai.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes. 

“Should I name it?”

“Do whatever you want with it.” Shirabu shrugs. “It’s yours now.”

Semi ponders this for a moment, before—

“Kenjirou.”

Shirabu’s head snaps up. “What?!”

The third year merely holds the hedgehog up, wiggling its tiny arms and legs around.

“Its name is Kenjirou.” He explains, with the same tone someone would use to report a traffic jam. Except unlike traffic jams, Shirabu actually really likes the way Semi says his first name, likes hearing those three syllables come out his mouth, and shit if he doesn’t want to hear _more—_

“But— why?”

“It was either that or Shirabutt.” 

_“Semi-san.”_

“… I did say it reminds me of you, didn’t I?”

Huh. That is true, but it does absolutely nothing to quell the butterflies in Shirabu’s stomach. Instead, his heart flutters once again at the thought of Semi’s lips forming a smile around his name, shouting it out in excitement after scoring a point, or —just maybe— a breathless whisper of Kenjirou in the heat of the moment, right as Semi leans in to—

He snaps out of his trance when he feels something soft against his cheek, turning his head to see that Semi had pressed the hedgehog’s paw against it.

“Semi-san, what… are you doing?”

Semi sticks his bottom lip out, eerily reminiscent of a three year old child being told off.

“You should name Kenjirou’s playmate too!”

“Kenjirou’s… playmate?” Shirabu furrows his brows, still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that Semi named his plushie after him.

“The jellyfish, dummy.”

Now it’s Shirabu’s turn to pout. He looks down at the jellyfish in his arms, taking note of the two toned colouration and mean face.

Slowly, a smile inches its way onto his face.

“Meet SemiSemi.” Shirabu says with a flourish, his smile growing wider upon seeing Semi’s eyebrow twitch. 

“I hate that nickname.”

“I know.”

Semi clicks his tongue. “Brat.”

Shirabu sighs dramatically. “Now every time I look at this jellyfish I’ll be reminded of my brainless senpai.”

Semi gasps, hands shooting up to cover his hedgehog’s ears. “ _The audacity_. How dare you slander my name, filthy peasant. Don’t talk to me, _or_ my son ever again.” And with that, he strides off with Kenjirou in his arms. 

The image of Semi haughtily walking off while cradling an oversized hedgehog like a baby was just too good, and Shirabu throws his head back, a loud, genuine laugh bubbling out of his throat. He probably looks crazy to the crowd of students around him, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. 

He hasn’t laughed this loudly since… actually, Shirabu can’t remember. 

He looks towards where the ash blonde has slowed down considerably, and Shirabu _knows_ , knows he’s really waiting for him. Hugging the jellyfish closer to his chest, he can’t quite help the smile that graces his face as he runs to catch up with him. 

“Wait up, Semi-san!”

They’re walking past a booth when Shirabu suddenly stops, tugging at Semi’s sleeve. 

“This is Taichi’s class.”

Semi hums, craning his neck. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“That dumbass probably snuck off to see his stupid boyfriend.” Shirabu rolls his eyes, inching closer to get a better look.

“Really, a fortune telling booth?” He wrinkles his nose once he makes out the words on the sign. 

It’s clear a lot of effort went into making the booth. A giant (and expensive looking) tent had been set up, with moon and stars imagery plastered all over. There were creepy looking dolls sat on the ground and fairy lights hung up. The words “DIVINE YOUR FUTURE” were emblazoned in bright, bold letters across the display easel.

“The tackiness is hurting my eyes.” Shirabu mutters, eyeing the decorations with thinly veiled disdain. 

“You’ve got to admit it’s creative.” Semi muses, the shit-eating grin making a reappearance on his face. “And it’s better than a maid café, right?”

“Oh _fuck you_.” 

Semi sticks his tongue out. 

“Hi, are you guys interested in a session?” A student standing behind the counter asks cheerily. 

“No thanks—” “Yes we are.”

Shirabu glares at him. Semi ignores him, smiling brightly at the girl. 

The girl —Nakamura, it says on her nametag— perks up immediately. “Right this way!” She motions, leading them inside the tent. 

They follow after her, pushing past the violet drapes. Shirabu takes advantage of the dim lighting to poke Semi in the ribs, _hard._

“What was that for?” Semi complains, gingerly rubbing his sides. 

“For agreeing to this in the first place.” Shirabu hisses back. “It’s a waste of money!”

“C’mon, live a little. It’ll be fun.”

“I guarantee you it will not be fun.”

“Do it for Taichi.”

“The only thing I would ever do for that bitch is assist in his murder.” 

Someone clears their throat. They turn to see Nakamura smiling awkwardly, her eyes flitting between the two of them like she knew something they didn’t. 

“Our fortune teller will be with you shortly. Please wait here in the meantime.” And with that, she walks out. 

Shirabu’s eyes trail towards his surroundings. A table sits in the centre of the tent, on top of it a crystal ball _(Tacky)_ and various other crystals _(Why?)._ There wasn’t even proper lighting in there, just a bunch of candles haphazardly strewn about _(A fire hazard more than anything)._

They had clearly tried to go for a mysterious effect. The keyword here is ‘tried’, because Shirabu was still painfully unimpressed. 

Semi, on the other hand, was warily eyeing the voodoo dolls. 

“… Where did they even get those?”

“This is a scam. Let’s get out of here.”

“There is no need for that.”

The next thing Semi knew he was getting the wind knocked out of him, nearly crumpling under the force of Shirabu practically jumping into his arms, but catching him nonetheless. He also has great blackmail material now, if the feminine shriek Shirabu lets out is anything to go by. 

Thank you, mysterious deep voice coming from somewhere in the room —Wait, what? 

Shirabu’s grip on him tightens when the figure —a man dressed head-to-toe in black with a mask over his face— approaches them. Weird fashion sense, but Semi’s not one to talk. 

“Greetings, weary travellers.”

“Travellers? The only travelling I did today was escaping from Tendou-san’s annoying ass.”

The fortune teller ignores him, continuing. “What is it you wish to learn? What answers do you seek? Could it be wealth? Happiness? Family?”

“He’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he?” Shirabu grumbles when the stranger pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect. Semi doesn’t reply, too busy not thinking about how close Shirabu is and _oh god his breath tickles—_

“Or… perhaps,” The fortune teller muses, staring pointedly in Shirabu’s direction. At least, Semi thinks so. It’s kind of hard to tell with the mask and all. 

“… _You’re_ curious about love?”

For some reason, it felt like the question is directly aimed at Shirabu. And by the looks of it, Shirabu was _pissed._

He steps away from the ash blonde, staring at the man with fire in his eyes. 

“Care to tell me what gave you that impression, fuckface?”

Semi’s jaw drops. What the hell was his problem? He knew Shirabu had a crush but it couldn’t be that bad, right? 

“It’s just a question, Shirabu. You don’t have to be so defensive.” He murmurs quietly, disapproval apparent in his voice. 

Shirabu ignores him. 

Semi turns to give the fortune teller an apologetic smile, but he just waves him off. 

“I understand that I might have crossed a line—" “You think?” “—but truthfully, it’s written all over your face.” 

_“Hah.”_

Weirdly enough, he can almost see the fortune teller smirking under his mask. 

“What kind of bullshit are you spouting? You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Shirabu bites out, but there’s an uneasiness in the way he shifts from one foot to the other, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape route. 

The fortune teller is quiet for a few seconds. 

“You got off on the wrong foot with him at the start.” He says simply. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Semi sees Shirabu tense up. 

Schooling his expression into something more neutral, he scoffs. “I get off on the wrong foot with _everyone_. Try again.”

“It was different with him, and you know it.” 

Semi fidgets at the side, feeling out of place. It feels like he’s intruding on something private, something personal and yet—

Curiosity gets the better of him. 

He won’t lie and say the thought of Shirabu already having a crush hadn’t been niggling at the back of his mind this whole time, a painful reminder of what he can’t have because it has.

It was there when he foolishly reached for Shirabu’s hand, weaving through the crowds and keeping him close, pretending it was just a joke and not because he really was overprotective of the younger. 

It was there when Shirabu smiled genuinely at the stuffed animals he had won for him, where his heart grew three sizes too big and it took everything within him to stop himself from confessing right then and there. 

It was there when Semi fell deeper and harder, realising with a crumbling heart that no matter what he did or how desperate he was, there was _someone else_ who already had everything he ever wanted. 

And it’s still there as he stands, watching the ongoing staring contest between his crush and an oddly knowledgeable fortune teller (—a stalker?), torn between helping Shirabu get out of there, or, maybe, learning about the person who had melted his heart so easily when Semi had tried in vain for _years._

So he stays. 

“You’re being awfully cryptic here, Mr fortune teller.” Shirabu says, a snarky grin on his face. A part of Semi wants to chastise him for being rude, and the other part of him was weirdly attracted to the sheer pettiness of it all.   
Yeah, he really needs to revaluate his taste in men. 

The man in the mask shrugs, undeterred. 

“You were rivals, weren’t you? And for a long time too before you came to terms with your feelings.”

Wait. 

Rivals? 

Semi racks his brain, trying to think of a face or a name or anyone who could have been Shirabu’s rival. Maybe a student from his class? It was possible, Shirabu was a top student after all. Surely there were going to be classmates competing with his grades. 

Or was it Goshiki, competing with him for Ushijima’s attention— 

Nope, not going to think about that. 

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looks up to find all the colour has drained from Shirabu’s face. 

“Stop it.” Shirabu’s bottom lip is trembling. “Stop being so goddamn nosy and annoying and fuck _I knew_ this was a terrible decision.”

“I’m just trying to help.” Amazingly, the man’s voice softens considerably. “You know, he’s graduating soon, if you don’t tell him now—”

“ _Don’t._ Tell me what to do.” Shirabu hissed, frustration gnawing at his edges. If looks could kill, Semi was convinced the fortune teller would’ve died a thousand times over. 

“You can’t keep ignoring your feelings like this—"

“I can _and_ I will.”

“Listen, this is only going to hurt you in the long run. I’m saying this for your own good—” 

“Fuck off.”

“Stop acting like you don’t have a chance with him if you’ve never even tried—” 

“ _Shut up_!” 

The only indication Semi gets is the second year squeezing his plushies in a death grip before he’s gone— running out of the tent. 

He stares at Shirabu’s retreating back, limbs stiff and frozen in place. His head is screaming at him to move damn it, but the memory of Shirabu’s watery eyes feels like a stab to his heart and all of a sudden—

_He can’t move._

Someone clears their throat from behind him. 

“I, uh… _might_ have gone overboard.” The fortune teller admits sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with a gloved hand. 

Semi glares at him. _You think?_

“No use getting upset over it now.” Nodding in the direction Shirabu left, he shrugs lazily. “Go on, run after him.”

The fortune teller slowly turns his head to Semi, mulling over his next sentence. 

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and Semi is struck by an overpowering sense of déjà vu that he can’t quite seem to place in his panicked state. 

“Hold his hand too. Wouldn’t want him to get lost now, would we?”

  
He finds him sobbing behind the school building and in an instance he understands what it feels like for your heart to break in two. 

The scene in front of him is heart-wrenching: sobs are wracking Shirabu’s body as he tries to muffle them by burying his face into his plushies— the same ones Semi had won for him just moments earlier.

How did it end up this way? 

“Shirabu?”

The second year stiffens, shrinking further into himself like he’s trying to blend in with the wall. He doesn’t look up, but Semi already knows without having to see that his eyes were red. 

“Leave me alone.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” Semi walks forward, till he’s standing in front of him. “I _am_ your stubborn senpai after all.”

Shirabu doesn’t grace him with an answer, but Semi can see some of the tension easing off of him. 

He doesn’t wait for permission before plopping down onto the space next to him. 

“I told you to leave.” Is the weak reply. 

Semi snorts. “Good luck getting rid of me.”

There’s a strange sort of comfort in their banter, and he’s hoping Shirabu feels the same way too. He doesn’t think he could stand to see Shirabu crying like that ever again. 

“Are you _trying_ to piss me off?” Shirabu lifts his head up to glare at him, and Semi has to resist the urge to cup his cheeks and wipe those tears away. 

“That’s essentially my main purpose in life, yes.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes, but it’s obvious that he’s fighting back a smile. 

They sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Semi starts to get twitchy. He’s never been the best at staying still and he doesn’t want to start pacing around out of nowhere, so he settles for picking at the non-existent lint on his pants. 

He pretends not to notice Shirabu wiping his eyes. 

Slowly, the sniffs subside. 

“Is this…” Shirabu speaks up, hesitating. “… a build-up before rejecting me?”

Semi blinks once, then twice. 

“Huh?”

_Eloquent as always, Eita._

“.. You know, all— _this_ ,” He gestures to Semi’s whole body and Semi has absolutely no idea what that means. 

He wishes he hadn’t voiced that aloud though, because now Shirabu looked two seconds away from strangling him. 

“Like, ugh,” Shirabu makes a frustrated noise, clearly not happy about having this conversation. “You comforting me and staying with me and just— just being _you_ ," He inhales sharply, voice cracking as he continues. “It’s all just to make me feel better when you,” He chokes up. “—you reject me in the end.”

_Reject?_

Semi stares at him, alarm bells going off in his head as he tries to fully process the implications of what just came out of Shirabu’s mouth. All of a sudden, the fortune teller’s words come rushing back to him in full force. 

_You got off on the wrong foot with him at the start._

The first day Semi met Shirabu Kenjirou, he had decided right off the bat he didn’t like him. 

The first year was intelligence, sass and extreme pettiness all rolled into one tiny, rage-fuelled boy with the dumbest haircut he had ever seen. Semi hadn’t known he had a type back then, but seeing Shirabu had felt like a slap to his face and a revelation at the same time. 

His infatuation had lasted all the way until Shirabu opened that pretty mouth of his. 

_You were rivals, weren’t you? And for a long time too before you came to terms with your feelings._

It made sense that they were rivals. 

When everything came down to it, they were pretty much opposites in every aspect. Semi wore his heart out on his sleeve; Shirabu wore his behind an iron-clad mask of indifference. Semi was easy to anger and rise to the bait;

Shirabu kept a level head. Semi lost his spot to a first year; Shirabu made it onto first string. 

Semi loved easily; Shirabu did too. 

Semi knew how to cope with his feelings in a healthy way.

Shirabu did not. 

_You know, he’s graduating soon, if you don’t tell him now—_

They had talked about the future of the club once, right after the Karasuno match. 

About what would happen after the third years left. 

Goshiki was fighting back tears, finally breaking down when Ushijima placed a heavy hand on his back. Tendou had dragged Taichi away with the excuse of passing on wisdom to his protégé, but even they could see through the cracks in his crumbling façade. 

He had locked eyes with Shirabu then. 

There was no anger, or resentment or even his usual indifference in those copper eyes, but something else entirely. Only months later, did he realise. 

_Shirabu had been staring at him longingly._

Oh. 

Semi is a certified idiot. 

“ _I’m_ the person you like?” He gapes, pointing at himself. 

Shirabu stares at him like he’s an idiot. It stings a little, but he can’t blame him. 

“Is this a trick question?”

“What—,” Semi splutters. _“No, I had no idea!”_

There’s a beat of silence. Shirabu looks like he’s going through a mid-life crisis. 

When he finally speaks up, anger radiating off him in palpable waves, Semi hopes it isn’t obvious that’s he’s squirming under his glare. 

“What do you mean you _don’t_ know?”

“Well, _how_ was I supposed to know?” Semi waves his hands around, distressed. 

“We practically went on a date today!”

Semi pauses. Turns to look at the ground with a blank stare. Looks back at Shirabu again and raises his hands in surrender. 

“Okay, you got me there.”

“I let you _hold my hand_.”

“Friends do that too! And hey, maybe you were touch-starved.”

"I gave you my plushie. For your birthday. Told you to _think of me_ when you looked at it—”

“—Okay, okay! I get it, alright? I’m a colossal idiot. Now can we _please_ stop this ‘call out Semi for his dumbassery’ session?” Semi pleads.

Shirabu doesn’t deign him with an answer. 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Just, let me get this straight— ha, straight.”

_“Semi-san.”_

“Right, sorry.” He clears his throat, pointing a finger at Shirabu. “You.” The finger turns to point straight at himself. “like-like me?” He makes sure to wiggle his finger for emphasis. 

“What are we, kindergarteners?”

“Nice try dodging the question, but I’m not letting it slide.”

Shirabu huffs and turns his head away, but Semi doesn’t miss the blush that spreads across his face. 

Fuck, he’s cute.

“I… like-like you.” He mumbles, voice muffled from where he’s buried his head in his arms. “… Dumbass.”

_“Why.”_

Shirabu peeks out from behind his arms to give him a judging stare.

“Y’know, I’m beginning to wonder that myself too.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“What, do you want me to make a whole-ass Powerpoint and present it to you?”

“Well, yeah actually. You could even put in those mind maps—”

The look on Shirabu’s face shuts him up quickly. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He mutters sheepishly. “It’s just unexpected, you know? First I think you hate my guts and now… well, this happens.”

“If you’re going to reject me just say it to my face already.” Shirabu says miserably, tears pooling in his eyes again and _fuck this was not what Semi wanted._

It dawns on him that he hadn’t even given Shirabu an answer after his confession and now he’s tempted to hurl himself out of a window for making Shirabu cry. Again.

He leaps out of his seat to kneel in front of him, heart breaking a little at the quiet sniffs escaping him. 

_Think, Eita. You have to fix this._

“I was jealous of Ushijima at the maid café!” He blurts out.

_Good job, Eita. There is no way Shirabu won’t forgive you after this._

Shirabu stills, confusion flooding his (annoyingly pretty) features. 

“… _You_ wanted to work at the maid café?”

“What? _No, that’s not what I meant!_ " Semi splutters, face heating up. Shirabu raises a skeptical eyebrow at that. 

“I meant— I, _ugh_.” He mumbles weakly, burying his face into his hands. “Remember how I dragged you away after we met Ushijima?” 

Shirabu nods. 

He heaved a sigh. Well, here goes nothing. 

“I was… jealous of you giving him all your attention.” Semi tugged at his uniform collar, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I wanted to be the only person you paid attention to.”  
Shirabu stays quiet, listening to him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“It kind of rubbed me the wrong way. You were obviously attracted to Ushijima and it only made me feel worse about myself because well… it further proved that I never stood a chance with you.”  
He hears the younger boy suck in a harsh breath, but he forges on. 

“When I found out you were hanging out with me today, I… it made me really happy. I like getting to spend time with you.” He admits, ears pink. “I didn’t agree to walk with you just to monitor your surprisingly huge appetite, you know?”

“You mean..” Shirabu searches his face, voice small yet hopeful. 

Semi grins, leaning closer and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. 

“I like-like you too.”

The fortune teller has to suppress a chuckle from where he’s hiding behind the wall when Shirabu practically throws himself at Semi, the two of them toppling to the ground in a heap of giggles.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Nakamura starts to walk over, becoming quiet when he raises a finger to his mouth. 

She peeks behind the wall, cooing when she sees Shirabu blushing when Semi wraps an arm around his waist.

“How’d you know it was gonna work out,” She turns to the now maskless man, who was busy ruffling his hair. “Taichi?”

The redhead hums, a coy smile on his face as he languidly slips his mask back on. 

Before the mask falls into place, he shoots her a wink, one finger placed in front of his lips. 

“A real fortune teller _never_ reveals his secrets.”

Bonus:

“Nakamura, could you help me out with something?”

“Of course I will, Taichi!”

“Good. Help me fake my death. I’d rather not be there when Shirabu finds out what I did.”

"… Shall I give my condolences to Goshiki-kun, too?”

“Please do. Make sure he cries at the funeral too, like full-on bawling. I’m talking ugly tears and hysterics. We need to really sell this story.”

“I’ll write that down.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know if you can tell but I was channeling Shirabu’s inner Bakugo during the confrontation with the fortune teller. 
> 
> P. S. This was Taichi’s dumb way of showing he cares about his friend.  
> To clear things up, Taichi was using a fake, much deeper voice to not expose himself. And also because he’s a dramatic little shit. Shirabu never once thought that Taichi would be the fortune teller because he had told him he’d just be working reception, but something came up that day and Taichi had to step in for the original fortune teller.
> 
> Anyone: Talks shit about Taichi  
> Goshiki: (ง'̀-'́)ง
> 
> We all know that if Shirabu was involved in the maid cafe, Semi would be the first customer. Am I right boys ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I realised this fic is pretty fast paced lol. Please tell me your thoughts about my fic!! Would really apppreciate it (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


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